Like We Stopped Time
by Sabrina Empress of Insanity
Summary: Oishi can't understand why Eiji hasn't cried over his grandmother's death... Golden Pair, and fluffier than it sounds, I promise!


_Author's Note: This was written for the goldenpair community's second annual Fic for a Pic contest. But oddly enough, the same day the inspiration pics were posted, I had a dream about the Golden Pair that I swear was designed for one of the pictures. So I have to thank the contest mod for posting that picture…otherwise, this fic might never have been written! (It's HARD to translate my dreams into actual fiction normally!)_

_Also, this fic is dedicated to my late grandfather. Even if he passed away nearly three years ago...I swear he's still here, somewhere. I can feel it._

**Like We Stopped Time**

I still could not believe it. When my grandfather died, it had felt like weeks before I smiled again. I couldn't even visit my grandmother at their house for months, though I met with her anywhere else we could until I was able. And my family wasn't even in that close contact! I'd been lucky if I got to visit my grandparents once a month. I couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be in a big, close-knit family when somebody died. If I had trouble coping with my grandfather's death as it was, wouldn't it have been a thousand times worse if I had seen him all the time?

So how was it that Eiji was standing beside me and laughing at something funny that had happened at home that very morning while we stood outside his late grandma's house?

"I thought Dad was going to die laughing!" Eiji grinned impishly and brushed his hair off his forehead. I caught a faint whiff of sweat, not really unpleasant, before he resumed his story. "Maybe you had to be there. What's up, Oishi?"

I pulled my eyes away from the small house with the wilting gardens in the tiny yard, and made myself focus again. "Huh?"

Eiji leaned forward so that his face was right up against my own. "You're quiet today. You didn't ask if my brother hurt himself when he flipped over the rail. Something on your mind?"

I didn't, at least not in the way he meant, but I still felt guilty as I replied. "I'm fine, Eiji. There's nothing wrong with me."

Blue eyes narrowed and my partner leaned in even further so that I had to step back or risk getting a nose in my eye. "But you're worried about something. What?"

A faint breeze fluttered past and made the browning greenery rustle in a way that made me think of dead flesh, and I shivered. "I'm worried about you."

Eiji stepped back and his mouth dropped open. For a moment, he was completely speechless, not a usual occurrence for him at all. At last, he managed to choke out a response. "Worried about me?_ Why?"_

It was hard to meet Eiji's eyes, but the only other place for me to look was at the house, and that was even worse. So I put a hand on his shoulder to keep my resolve. "Eiji…your grandmother just passed away. She died less than a week ago. But other than missing school for the funeral, you haven't reacted at all. Of course I'm worried about you."

Eiji just continued to stare at me in utter disbelief. It was so hard to meet his gaze like that. There was such intensity about him…like when he first told me he loved me, when he first confessed, staring at me with the heat of a million suns behind his eyes until I could barely look. That time, I hadn't looked away. I wouldn't this time, either. I hoped. "I mean, this isn't an easy situation." God, the words were so awkward on my tongue. No wonder he was looking at me like I was speaking another language. "When my grandfather died, I could barely sit through class without crying. I know the situation is different here, I mean, we're in high school now, not elementary school, and you're so much closer to your family than I am, but sometimes when things like this happen, people can't even grieve at first. They won't even acknowledge that something happened. They go into denial, and it's not always a good thing. And I haven't seen you cry at all, and you've been joking all day and insisting we come to her house like nothing at all happened, so…"

"Wait, wait, wait." Eiji held up both hands and shot me a look like I'd grown another head. "My grandmother died this week, and you're worried about me because I'm _not _crying and hysterical?"

"Well…" I shrugged, feeling ridiculous. It did sound stupid when put that way, but still! "I just think it would be better for you to actually grieve than to pretend to be happy. If you loved her that much…"

I trailed off. Eiji's gaze had gone mutinous, hard, and furious. "Are you saying," he said slowly, practically spitting each word out, "that I didn't love my grandma?"

"No, no! I meant…"

"Oishi, of course I loved her!" Eiji's open hands slammed into my chest and I staggered back. "It's because I loved her that I'm here, you idiot!"

I rubbed my sternum and winced. "Excuse me?"

With a hiss, Eiji closed his eyes and fisted his hands in his hair, pulling once, hard. I had the sudden hysterical urge to make some comparison to Kaidoh. After a moment, Eiji let out his breath in a whoosh and opened his eyes again. "Look, just come inside with me, all right?"

I couldn't believe he was serious, and started to tell him that he was avoiding the issue, but one more of those burning looks and I closed my mouth. Eiji did not get angry often, and I'd almost gotten him furious with me. Discretion was the better part of valor, after all.

The house echoed strangely. I'd been there before, and it always had been a little bit spooky just because of its age and all the shadows, but somehow knowing it was empty made it even eerier. Still, Eiji didn't hesitate at all as he kicked off his shoes and marched purposefully into the hallway. With a look over his shoulder at me, he gestured impatiently, and I hurried after him.

I'd expected to be dragged into a dusty, dark room with musty air and the air of misuse that even five days of emptiness seemed to leave. Instead, the curtains were open, there were fresh flowers in a vase on the table, and when Eiji opened the windows, the living room seemed like it had never changed. It was more than a little surprising, and as I took a seat on the white couch, I wondered if it had ever actually been this clean and open and airy even when Eiji's grandmother had been alive.

Eiji stayed by the window, looking outside with an annoyed frown. "No matter what we do, it's all still dying," he sighed regretfully before turning back to me. His expression was clear again…serious, but no longer angry or even as intense as it had been. He leaned against the wall and bit his lip, as if he wasn't sure how to begin.

"I didn't get to see Grandma Omori as much as I think Mom wanted," he started hesitantly, "but we did get to visit every week at least. We're lucky like that. And she was a really great lady." A small "hmm" sound escaped him, and Eiji hesitated again. "And the most interesting thing about her was how she wasn't afraid of anything. You remember. Not even death. I remember I cried when she told me about Grandpa's funeral, and she just smiled and said, 'Everything dies, Eiji. It's part of living.'"

I didn't say anything. Eiji's maternal grandfather had passed away not long before he was born. He'd never known him. And I'd never known that he had cried for him anyway.

"She could have lived forever," Eiji continued. "If anyone could have lived forever, it was her. She was so good at living life, even with all of her health problems and her age and everything, you know? But she wasn't afraid of dying and she didn't seem to care when the doctors told her she didn't have long left if she didn't take it easy. So, do you get it, Oishi?" He dropped onto the couch beside me. "I'm not crying because I'm in denial or afraid to admit she's gone of whatever stupid medical thing you want to quote at me." His voice hitched for a moment, and when he went on, it was thick and almost forced. "I cry about it plenty. But she'd want us to remember her as someone who lived, not someone who just died.

"I have to come here," he whispered. "I'm not sad that she's gone. But in a few months, Mom and Dad and my aunts and uncles will have cleared this place out and sold it, and this is the place where she lived and my brothers and sisters and I have been taking turns taking care of it so it's just like when she was alive, and I don't want to lose that…"

His voice caught again, and Eiji closed his eyes tightly. He didn't cry. But he hurt. Without thinking, I reached out and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him to me as I fell back against the armrest of the couch. With a small sound that wasn't quite a sob but certainly wasn't a laugh, Eiji snuggled into the hollow between my legs and pressed his cheek against my stomach, still without opening his eyes. He didn't say a word, but just wrapped his arms around my waist and held on while I ran a hand over his hair in comfort. The clock in the room had stopped at some point in time, maybe even months before instead of just days, and there was almost no noise from outside, not even the rustling of the dying garden. It was like we stopped time.

At last, I looked down at the crown of Eiji's hair, still stroking his hair lightly. "It's psychological, actually."

"Huh?" Eiji looked up, blue eyes perplexed but no longer as sad.

"Denial." I tried a small smile. "It's not a medical issue, it's psychological. You know, mental."

Eiji blinked once, twice, and broke into a wide smile. He laughed as he propped himself up on my body. And everything was right again.

I smiled back and let my hand rest atop his head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Eiji shook his head and all but beamed at me. "I'd just rather come here and remember and be happy than cry, that's all. Pretty weird, huh?"

"Actually…" I pressed my lips against the part in his hair in a light kiss. "That sounds infinitely sensible."

Eiji snorted and fell back onto my stomach. "She liked you, you know. I don't know if Mom or Dad ever told her we were dating, but she liked you an awful lot."

I looked around the room, and for a moment I understood exactly what he had meant about coming and remembering. I could all but see Eiji's grandmother sitting in the overstuffed, hideous chair to our left, with perfectly coifed hair and all made up for the day, still in her dressing gown and slippers and shaking her head over tea at the two of us like she had done any time Eiji tried to explain tennis to her. She never had understood all the rules. "This house does have a lot of memories."

"Well." Eiji looked up and smiled at me, a smile of such heart-stopping sweetness that the memory in the room smiled in return even as I did. "This can be another one."


End file.
